


Hard To Get

by jenish (phizzle)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-24
Updated: 2005-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/jenish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For dr_funbags.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Hard To Get

**Author's Note:**

> For dr_funbags.

DCI Boyd looked into his Thermos. The remains of the coffee Sergeant Hill had brewed him stared mournfully back.

He wasn't going to catch Monaghan today. He just knew it, like he knew that the bastard would find a way to slip through their fingers again. Still, he had to keep trying, it was that or admit total defeat. And Billy was a Boyd, and Boyds do not admit defeat.

Sighing, he pushed the car door open, making sure to leave it locked up. He'd never had any trouble since he'd started treating Monaghan with what had been termed as "a decent bit of respect", but still, doesn't hurt to be careful.

The receptionist barely even let him open his mouth. "He's waiting for you, Detective," she told him, bored, and he nodded to her.

"Thank you, Ms Mckinnon." She flicked an insincere smile at him and went back to staring at her computer screen, every particle of her completely and pointedly ignoring him. He sighed, and took the lift.

Monaghan's office was on the top floor, an airy room with windows affording a view of Glasgow. Billy looked around. "New carpets, I see," he commented.

"Ah, Detective," Monaghan beamed from behind his desk. "Come in, come in, do sit down. I'll have Alison send someone up with coffee, shall I? Or would you prefer tea?"

Billy thought about the tasteless instant left in his car. "Tea would be lovely, thank you." He gingerly sat, wondering how the fucker had managed to instantly get all the control. Again. Fuck.

Monaghan smiled politely and silently until a young man brought in a tray. "Thank you, Elijah," Monaghan nodded to him. "Detective, this is my latest employee, Elijah Wood. Elijah, this is Detective Chief Inspector Boyd. He's becoming quite a fixture around the place." There was a pointedness in his voice that almost said _Bad for business_, but Monaghan, of course, was beyond slipups in this little game of theirs.

_Game?_ Billy thought as he looked over Wood. _Is it a game for this poor young lad, what he has to do here?_ He smiled sympathetically at Wood, and got a blank smile in return.

"Pleased to meet you." The kid was American. That blank look, that _paint me like a canvas_ demeanour … oh, he's good. Billy stopped himself just short of being impressed. He didn't know how Monaghan did it, but he seemed to find the best of everything he turned his hand to. From art to carpets to his rent boys, it seemed.

"You take care, son," Billy told him. Elijah gave a noncommittal smile, nodded at Monaghan, and left. The door closed with a soft whisper behind him.

"Now, now," Monghan admonished, twinkle in his eye as he tore open a packet of three biscuits. "Don't go feeling sorry for him, I'm a good employer, Detective."

"Oh, I have no doubt you treat your … employees well, Mr Monaghan."

"Good. And to what, pray tell, do I owe the delight of your visit?" He dunked his biscuit in his tea, catching it in his mouth and working it around. Billy swallowed, and stirred sugar into his.

"There's been a burglary, Mr Monaghan," Billy informed him, watching his face. Smooth, calm as ever.

"Has there? I imagine so, in a city this size. And how very dedicated of the police, to be sending their top man to investigate." He waved his hand, as if Billy had made to protest. "Come now, you know you are the best. I know it, at least." His eyes held a kind of gleam Billy had caught a few times. His own narrowed just a tad.

"Thank you, Mr Monaghan, glad to know my work in this city is appreciated. Now, this burglary," he continued, slowly, "happened to be of a certain Mr Astin's property."

Something that could almost be described as the beginnings of a twitch was instantly stilled in Monaghan's cheek. "How very unfortunate," was the reply. "Might I ask as to what this has to do with me?"

"Of course. The thing is, Mr Monaghan," Billy leaned forward. "Mr Astin, Mr Sean Astin, that is, is a rival of yours, is he not? I believe he owns a painting you sold at auction two months ago, at a profit."

"Yes, that is so," Monaghan nodded. "A fair and good price, for a piece of that value."

"That painting, Mr Monaghan, has gone missing."

"Missing?"

"Missing, Mr Monaghan, missing."

"Missing?"

"Missing," Billy said, slowly. Monaghan sat back, looking politely troubled.

"Well, that _is_ unfortunate. To be burgled _and_ have such a valuable painting go missing all at once." He shook his head. "Tut tut, Detective. Tut tut."

Billy would have massaged his temples if he could have afforded that much power to Monaghan. Instead, he spoke slowly, enunciating every word so even this English git would get it. "The painting," he breathed in and out, "was the item that was stolen in the burglary. The _only_ item," he added.

"My my," Monaghan's eyes widened. "Well, that _is_ a turn-up for the books, isn't it? What is the world coming to?"

Billy gritted his teeth. "And why, do you think, Mr Monaghan, a burglar would take a valuable painting, but leave intact an even more valuable and essentially much more _portable_ collection of diamond jewellery?"

"Jewellery? Mr Astin's, I presume?" The corner of Monaghan's mouth quirked.

"Mrs Astin's," Billy told him, coldly. "Gifts, as it happens, from Mr Astin."

"Ah." Monaghan nodded, as if that settled the matter. "And, they were left intact, were they?"

"Yes," Billy emphasised. "Why, do you think, that is?"

"Perhaps the burglar was sentimental, Detective?"

Billy wondered what would happen if he thunked his head onto the table and just left it there. Maybe if he kept very, very still Monaghan would forget he was there and do something that could get him arrested. Anything. This had gone on long _enough_ now. Billy was tired, he wanted to go home and not have to chase Monaghan every which way to even get one tiny answer out of him.

_You like the game_, a voice whispered in his head. He told it to fuck the buggering hell off. It audibly smirked, and he managed to stop short of smacking his forehead into something hard and wooden.

"Detective? Are you quite all right?" Monaghan had moved around the desk and was almost at his side when Billy decided to hell with his dignity and slammed his head into the desk while simultaneously bursting into tears.

It took him a minute to realise that Monaghan had his arms around him, had pulled him to the floor, and was currently cradling him in his lap while making soothing noises. "Shh, shh," Monaghan whispered. "Ach, they're working you too hard, aren't they? Bastards." His accent had shifted a little, somehow thicker and with the faintest hint of German.

"It's you," Billy choked out. "It's you, you're fucking impossible, you never give me anything to-" He stopped, words cut off mid-stride by Monaghan's mouth suddenly pressed firmly to his. His hands clenched in Monaghan's shirt.

"Billy," Monaghan whispered against his lips. Billy blinked. Monaghan – Dominic – pulled him closer. "Billy," he whispered again.

"Dominic, you fucker, give me something to go on," Billy groaned, hoarse.

A dry chuckle. "Next time, don't give me such an easy pun," was his answer. Billy just clung to him. "Fuck, I've really led you a merry dance, haven't I?"

"Driving me mad," Billy agreed. "More ways than," he didn't finish the sentence. Dominic exhaled damply across his cheek.

"Sorry, Detective. Can't give you any clues. I have this aversion to being locked up, you see, and some of the things my team gets up to aren't necessarily what they'd want their mothers hearing about." He exhaled again, shakily. "When are you off-duty?"

"Never," Billy muttered miserably. He paused. "My shift ended an hour ago, technically. I'm on call, though, all the time-"

Dominic shut him up again. This time, Billy tasted tea and mint and Digestives, opening his mouth greedily.

"Think I can make an exception," he murmured. _A fucking big exception._


End file.
